Saving Greece, Again

Tomorrow, a long awaited event (background music by John Williams). 

From the makers of Saving Greece, and Saving Greece Two, comes the epic story of our lifetime (theatrical pause).....

Saving Greece, Again

Starrying Academy Award Nominee, Angela Merkle and Academy Award Winner Nicolas Sarkozy; from famed Direct Herman Van Rompuy:  a tale of a country that was thought once doomed to fail.

"I love you Greece"  yells Angela, drenched from a rainstorm, pointing a gun at her head.
"Angela, no!"  Nicolas grabs the gun and pushes it to her side.  "Save Greece to save yourself."

Coming to theatres tomorrow.

Occupy Mainstreet

Occupy Mainstreet

A hooded figure steps out in front of an assembly of men.  Some of the audience appear lizard like, others are much more human.  The hooded figure steps in front of a podium.  We see his beady eyes and large nose.  A wisp of silver hair shows above his eyes.

Today I welcome all delegates from their respective worlds.  To my left we have the shiny headed Blankfein [shot of Blankfein smiling and drooling], and to my right we have John Mack who has helped build our empire from the ground up [crowd applause].

I would like to start by saying our plan is near complete.  We have brainwashed much of Earth into trying to act cool, and not care.  Their minds and hearts have been dulled, which has allowed us to make it to where we are today.  Soon, very soon, we will have our New World Order, where our Banking Houses have total control of the money supply and wealth distribution [crowd cheers, the speaker waves for silence].  Soon, victory will be ours [the crowd begins to cheer again].  Soon, our New World Order will be complete!

The Two Printers

"Anything you can do  I can do better!"  Trichet said into the phone.  He had gotten Bernanke's Treehouse Answering machine.  Bernanke had walked in the door during the last line, he took off his trench coat and let the taped monolougue continue.

"Ve Vill do some quantitatife eazink too."

The tape stopped.  Bernanke breezed back into into the living room, where Timmah was strapped into his 8 bit Nintendo PPT video game.

"Timmah, time to go back into the market.  Get daddy some LULU today.  Don't tire yourself out either,"  he said while pouring a glass of Captin' and Malibu.  "Make that new Algo do the work for you."

Timmah was sick of getting so much blame.  He was leaving.  No more would he be dictated to by BS Bernanke.

"Benneh Bernanke."  He smirked to him self.  He went outside into the Clubhouse garage and got a can of gasoline.  He pured it at the base of the Treehouse just in time for BS to come outside.

"What are you doing Timmah!"  No!!!"

But it was too late.  Timmah had lit the match and thrown it; the Treehouse was in flames.

BS ran to his printer, "I must save the printer!"  He picked up the inkjet 5000 laser printer and threw it out the window.  The smoke was getting thick and he was about to pass out.  He fell to the floor.

Then out of nowhere, like a flash of lightening, someone picked him up and took him out of his office, and down the blazing tree.  He was tossed onto the ground, and he coughed and coughed.  When he looked up, he saw Trichet.

"Why?  Why did you save me?"

"I can't print alone.  Both printers are needed to keep the fiat ponzi gooing."

Bernanke's eyes spun in his head, and he passed out again.  Trichet left him there, slumped over his printer.

Who runs this motha?

Who runs this motha?

"Girls...we run this motha....yeah!  Girls!  Who run the world?  Girls!"

BS and Timmah sang and danced along to the tune while clinking glasses in celebration of buying up every asset, toxic and otherwise, in the known universe, before a variable collapse secured their status as BUYER OF LAST RESORT.

"Tuwn it up eye wub dith thong!"  Yelled Bawknee as he plopped himself on the love seat adjacent to Timmah's 8 bit Nintendo they used to run their PPT simulator.

"Girls!  Who run this motha!  Girls!  Who run this motha!"

There was no stopping them.  They had DC by the balls and Walled Street by the ears.  They were gods among grasshoppers.  Lords among field mice.

"Friday!"  Screamed BS over the music.  "Friday it all comes down.  Friday we own everything and nothing at the same time!"

"Weee!"  Giggled Timmah.  "TIMMAH!"

Bawknee waved his pointer fingers in the air with jubilation.  He was so happy he could be accepted by the great Alchemists of the Treaserve.

Girls....Who run this motha.....

Barry does Britney

"Suck it up America! Suck it up!" Barack turned behind him. "What should I say next?"
"Just read from the teleprompter..."
Obama turned righteously, with his head strong on his neck. He swiveled it from left to right. "Look, we all knew we had to tuck our guts in. We all knew this day would come. We are strong, we are bold, and we will resolve these issues."
"Yes we can!" A blind man said from the back of the auditorium.
Barack was satisfied with himself, and stepped away from the podium. "I need some Cherry Garcia." He said to his underscore.
"Yes sir."
"Tell Michelle we will be flying to whatever vaca spot she wants next, and pop a bottle of bubbly while you are at it." He made his way to the dressing room.
"Where the hell are my skittles?" He always asked for a bowl of skittles to be set aside his mirror. "Even Britney gets what she wants." He lamented. He was getting frustrated being President. It seemed like no one respected him anymore.

Not the Netflix!

"What's the news today, Bennie?!"  Asked Timmah as he sipped his morning Jolt.  Bernanke poured rum into his coffee.

"They raised the price of gold on us.  A lot of good that'll do them.  Maybe I should sell all my gold, tungsten is a fair substitute..."  He had begun to think out loud.

"So what should I do?"  Asked Timmah as he twittled his thumbs on the controller.
"Sell SLW, and buy Apple.  We got to keep this thing humming."

"We are all out of SLW."  Timmah pointed at the TV.

"Shit!  Ok, well sell Netflix then...damn."  He sipped his coffee with resentment.  There was nothing more he hated than selling Netflix.

Bernanke Sails!

The eye of the storm has come and gone.  Bernanke has battled many a financial hurricane since his time as Fed Chair.  No one has more field experience.  He is battle tested.

Today, the winds are in his face as he steers his ship, "Pomo".  The thunder of Muni Madness is heard overhead, as the waves of failing fiat splash across the bow.  Bernanke has no mercy for the sea he was thrown into.  He thinks of it as not a theory to master, but a way of life.  He fails to see, their is no sea, and he stands on a chair in his living room wearing a bathrobe while Timmah Geithner splashes water of his face.

Timmah Fully Loaded

Timmah Fully Loaded
It was to be a big month for little Timmah Geithner.  He was about to raise the debt ceiling like a zombie movie raises the dead, and at the same time act like China was manipulating their currency and no one else was.  Ben Shalom Bernanke walked into the living room.  Never sheepish, he asked Timmah to do the dishes, "You may finish your game after."
Timmah had stocked up on Jolt, Buzz, Flatline, and numerous other high caffeinated beverages for the new release of "Timmah Battles the Algo Machines from Hell:  Fully Loaded."  He was most likely going to play his PPT video game counsel for the next couple winter months as his main source of entertainment.  Well, that and watch old Disney movies.
The snow was keeping everyone inside.  Luckily for Timmah's Treehouse, Bawknee Fwank couldn't climb the frozen bars that lead up the trunk in the winter.  Timmah mostly had it to himself, as Bernanke spent most of his time in Davos and Jackson Hole.  Tonight he was having his friend Sackman for a sleep over.
"Sackman, do you want to play PPT?"  Asked Timmah.
"After we guzzle some Flatline!"  Sackman said as he drowned his brain in dye and chemicals.
Timmah ran to his bean bag chair.  "OK, we are going to load up the futures by buying penny stocks!"
"Oh cool!"  Said Sackman.
"Yeah, it works every time.  Bernanke showed me how to do it."
"How to do what?"  Asked Bernanke irately from the other room.
"I was just telling Sackman about the futures trick." There was an awkard silence after Timmah spoke.  Bernanke sat at his desk pressing buttons on his printer.
"How long will it take you to beat this game?"  Said Sackman gleefuly.
Timmah frowned, "I don't know.  I beat the last one in just a few days."  Sackamn sat cross legged and leaned over his pelvis with a cheshire grin.  His face was inches from the screen.
"Back up!"  Yelled Timmah.  "I can't see!"

Blythe does Jamie

"Meh.....Mmmmmeeeeh.....meh."  The sound came dip from her (it's?) throat as if gasping for breathe.  "Meeeh...cigerettes...neeed meh cigarettes."  Blythe's eyes rolled around in their sockets as if searching blindly in the dark, yet the room was lit, if even dimly.

Jamie Dimon stood in the corner.  He raised and snapped his fingers.  A manservent in a pink and purple bikini ran to Blythe with a pack of Lights.  The boyish bikini clad man held the pack out to her.  She roiled about for a second, not moving in any coordinated manner.

"Pull one out for her!"  Pointed Jamie.  The boy did so and Blythe cocked her head so he could stick one in her lips.  Her body lay in a vat of a mud like substance that appeared to be boiling.  It was not clear if she ever left the pool.

"Blythe," Jamie asked nervously, "What is the plan today?"

She coughed and weezed.  "Well it appears it has noticed we do not usually go after silver on Tuesdays."

"So we go after silver?"  Jamie asked in aspiration.

"Let me finish, boy.  We will go after all of the usual suspects."  Blythe let the cigarette burn as she talked.  "First oil, then gold, then silver, then the dollar."

Jamie reached in his coat pocket.  "I will alert Bernanke."

"Do not waste your time.  He and Barney Fwank are skiing Jackson Hole for his anniversary."

"Oh no, I forgot to get him a present!"

Blythe took a drag as an inch of ashe glowed red.  She exhaled and dropped it in the ashtray.  "I sent a card with your name on it."

"Thank y...."

Blythe interrupted, "Don't thank me."  She relaxed her head into the ooze and shut her eyes.

Zahab, ya sharmootah!

Zahab, ya sharmootah!

It means...

Gold, bitches!

...in Arabic.

Ben loved spending time in Davos almost as much as he enjoyed his treehouse.  The only difference was he did not have his printer in Switzerland.  He hoped that would be fixed next year with his new iprinter app.  He wanted to be able to print money wherever he went. 

He was talking a stroll through the town square when his telephone rang.  It was Timmah. 

"Timmah!"  Said Timmah. 

"Yes I am quite well aware of the situation in Africa.  Let Barry deal with it.  In the meantime, I want you to buy Ford double fisted, and keep Netflix and Apple up.  Lord knows how pissed Llyod will be if Hedge Funds liquidate their positions." 

"Timmah?"  Asked Timmah. 

"Strong dollar, weak dollar, it is all the same.  We are in this race until the end, and we want corporations to inherit the world.  We may sacrifice the Dollar at the alter of the Temple soon." 

This excited Timmah.  "Timmah!" 

"That's right, it is almost time.  We sold off enough gold in January to flush the weak hands out.  And in case you are wondering, I will step down 15 minutes after the dollar collapses." 

"Timmah?"

Bernanke didn't answer him.  He knew he had promised Timmah Fed Chair, but he had also promised Krugman Fed Chair.  As Jamie wanted Treasury Sec, it looked like Timmah would be working for Citi with Orzog.

"We will discuss your future later.  In the meantime, get my printer warmed up.  Daddy is going to be home soon, and I want to cuddle." 

"Heh heh...Timmah."  Timmah chuckled.

Bernanke hung up the phone and Timmah got busy on his 1987 8 bit Nintendo setting up his Futures Market.  He sucked on hos beer helmet, full of Jolt, and wondered, 'Maybe this was the week he would beat the last level of his PPT video game, called "Own the World's Paper".  Boy was he excited!

Ice Cream

It was a warm night in Hawaii when LawWrench Summers drove his ice cream truck down the beach.  He was chugging down a Coca-cola float.  He loved the way the mercury from the HFCS laced his brain's pathways.

"Ice cream, ice cream!"  Yelled brothers Barrock and George from the shoreline.  They ran back to the hotel pool where Darth Cheney was harassing the help.  "Come on sugar, show me your jugs."  The attendant ignored him.  "Raa."  Darth whined with disappointment.  Al Gore who was lying in a chair next to him with a towel over his eyes.  He lifted it up and squinted as he said, "Darth you got to be smooth man.  That's what Billy taught me.  Be smooth."  "Raa, and you are the smoothest around, raa!"  "Jealous much?  Muahahaha."

"Uncle Cheney?"  Interrupted 'Lil Bush.  "Can I have some monie for some ice cream?"  "Raa.  Here's a quarter."  "Me too, me too!"  Yelled little Barrock.  "Raa."  He flipped another quarter their way.  "To bad you do not have girls."  "They aren't mine!  I am watching them for Rockefeller.  Raa."  "Well if they were girls you could sell them off to the highest Goldman Sachs trader like Billy did."  "Do you ever shut up about him?!  Raa!"

The boys ran for the ice cream truck but Summers only drove faster.  'Look at them run!'  He laughed to himself.  Finally he stopped.  "What'll it be boys."  "Do you have anything for a quarter?" asked little Barrock.  "I have Jelly Smellies for fifty cents."  "Let's share!"  Smiled 'Lil Bush as he put his hand on his shoulder.  "Yeah!"  Agreed little Barrock.

Summers handed 'Lil Bush the dessert and he promptly ran away.  Barrock began to cry.  "Quit your crying, boy, he stole that fair and square."  He laughed loudly as he drove off.  Barrock walked back to where Darth Cheney was loungin'.  "Raa, stop your crying boy."  Barrock looked like he was all alone and without any ice cream.  Poor Barry.

But Barry would get ice cream come hell or high water.  He went to the bar where Hu was working.  He asked Hu for some ice cream.  "I give you ice cream after you pants Al Gore in front of the pool."  "No prob, Bob!"  Al Gore was stretching his arms high in the air.  He made eye contact with a young asian girl, and winked at her.  Little Barrock came up from behind and pulled down his pants.  The girl blushed and covered her mouth, "Little penis!"  She giggled.  Hu was pleased and gave little Barrock his dessert.  'He has a smaller penis than me!' thought Hu.

Carol of the Hell's Bells

Brian Cowen and Bernanke sit together on a park bench reading news papers.  Ms. Sarkozy walks by wearing daisy dukes and boots.  A cowboy hat keeps the bright sun from her eyes.  Brian Cowen stands up and tips his hat to her.  Bernanke follows and does the same.  Cowen turns to Bernanke and sings, "Anything you can do I can do better.  I can do anything better than you."  Bernanke, "No you can't."  "Yes I can!"  "No you can't!"  "Yes I can."

Obama enters stage left.  He is dancing, "Yes we can, can, can, can, can, can, can."  He lies down across the bench on his side with his arm supporting his head, smiling.  Larry Summers comes out stage right eating a hot dog with one hand and holding a soda in the other.  "She's gone country, look at them boots, she's gone country, back to her roots, she's gone country, a new kind of suit..."

Summers pushes Obama off of the bench and spills his soda on the ground.  The ketchup from the dog splashes onto Barracks face, but the man fails to notice.  Summers has instantly fallen asleep.  Barrock looks up in surprise with a worried frown.  "What is my line?"  He says to the tune of 'Coral of the Bells'.  The orchestra holds the note....everybody joins in.  "What is his line, what is his line, what is his line, what is his line."  "I am but a puppet, never needed to speak my mind."

"Give a give a give a Garmin!"  Sarah Palin pokes her head from behind the curtain.  The audience jumps from their seats.  "Sarah wasn't supposed to be here!"  "She is so hot, I would totally do her."  The paying custies say to each other.

She steps out and walks to the front center wearing a flowing dark red dress and no glasses.  "America, you are doing a wonderful job.  Keep being you.  And keep fighting the good fight."  Carla joins her.  "Let us all join together and begin the New World Order."  The other players join them and hold hands.  "We are the Champions my friends..."  They bow, the crowd cheers.

"This hole's too deep! Keep digging!"

"To China."  Yelled BS as he raised his silver shovel above his head. 

"Tee Cheenie!  Yeeeeeahhhh!"  Screamed Timmah.  His shovel was plastic. 

"Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta Chi-Chi-Chi-Chi..." Hank kept stumbling along as She La Bear interupted and leaned on her shovel, "Hank, where is YOUR shovel?  Oh never mind.  Where is Green-Span?" 

Out from the sky 'ol Greenie came, paraCHUTE in tow after the others caught him at landing.  He could barely stand.  "Lets do this."  Greenie said  with a wimsical expression as he wet his lips.  He was followed by the Romers, who did not exaclty make a gracefull landing either. 

"Ugh.  [Fart noise]  Sorry we're late," said the plump Mrs.  She was smiling, like ALWAYS.  "We had all the soda and candy loaded up when Larry took off with the stash.  While we stole the candy from wall mart he was fast asleep in the parking lot the whole time, but after we had it in the van he sped off!" 

"No need for that," quipped BS as he passed around a pipe.  "I've got a little more peyote left." 

Timmah stared wild eyed around him with a look of rapture.  He was dressed in uniform, with a shredded American flag bandana around his frizzly hair.  Then he screamed once more and began digging.  "Twwwwooooo Chaaaanaaa!"

HUANG JIN SAN BAMEN!!

HUANG JIN SAN BAMEN!!

This means....

GOLD, BITCHES!

....in Chinese.

BS Floats

"Ok, so now that we have established that it has all gone to plan, we have robots that will take over our lives, and we are all moving to the caymens."  BS knew that this day would come.  After all of these "meetings" with Congress, he had become very tired.  'God I need a hit of Peyote right about now', he thought.  Then out of nowhere Janet Yeelin quipped, "Shit!  I forgot my swimsuit!"  "I'm not going."  Announced Hoenig.  "We are all going."  Replied BS.  "No I'm not going, I'm staying here."  "Hes crazy!  What are you going to do here?  Burn with the serfs?  Well, whatever then, give me your swimsuit."  "I didn't bring a swimsuit."  "Well I need a swimsuit!  Someone give me a swimsuit!"

navigate

As we navigate the currentseas:
Silver is the Argonaut.  Oil is the sail.  Gold is the ancor.  We are looking for new lands.     

Gore's Carbon Blood Print

"Did someone say virgin's blood?" Al Gore was damn tired after flying in one of his many jets across the European continent for the third time in as many days.  Ken Lay pivoted in the golden colored lazy boy seat that was personally designed for him. "I heard Bill was having a party in the Caymans.  They should have some virgin's hearts there.  You know Billy C loves his virgin hearts!"  "Quite right, Kenny boy, Bill loves them hearts."  He had a chuckle, as Gore also loved eating the ripe muscle of teenage girls.  "Man Bear Pig!  Man Bear Pig!"  Yelled Dan Qualye from the back.  "Remember that show, heeheehee.  Man Bear Pig."  "Shut up Dan, how do you spell potato again.  Did I catch an "e" in there.  Haha."  "Good one." Said Ken, as he leaned back in the chair and put his gelly-eye sun-blocker on.  "Oh yeah, that's original."  Said Dan with a frown.  "So was YOURS."  "That's enough!"  Quipped CondaLeeza from the front.  "I have had just enough from you two.  Everyday, bicker, bicker, bicker.  If you do not stop by the time we land, I am telling Bill neither of you can have heart."  "Ooooh."  They replied in unison.  "We're sorry."

A cold January Night

It was a cold January night when Paul Adolf Volker was called into the Oval Office.  He had been summoned because it was he who slew the inflation dragon of the 80's.  Earlier that night, President Obama had sat down by the fire with a hot cup of Coco feeling something was not right with his economic policy.  "What could it be?" he asked.  "I have given tens of trillions of dollars to Walled St, I have let the Sarkozy brothers sleep with Michelle, and I wax BS Bernanke's head twice a day.  What could I do differently to help the American people?"  He had almost finished the drink when at last he realized it.  "I will summone Mr. Volker and listen to him!"  
Now that the man had arrived, Barrok asked him, "Mr. Volker, what can we do to help the American people?"  To that Paul A. Volker responded, "BAAAAAAAAAAWAABBAAAWAABBAAAWAABBAA!"
Once a puppet, always a puppet.  Obama did not learn fiscal and monetary policy overnight.

Silver Plan

Back then I was nieve.  But I had a plan.....

Gold to be FDR'd.

Bye Gold.  Buy Silver.

  

Mad Max:

How many times have you posted this in the last 4 hours?  10?  15???  Why?

I apologize if you do not like.  I have merely used it at the ends of posts for point not punt, this one withstanding.  I have heard gold, gold, gold, but not silver.  Ruby slippers?  No.  Silver.  Thanks for the comment.  I guess I made my point.

Mad Max:

They're both good options, I think.  I was wondering if you were here solely to hawk silver though.

Palladium, platinum, copper...???

I wish I had enough to hawk.

Your Question "Pall, plat, cop."?  Yes yes yes.  Still, I think silver offers portability along with "worth".  When the time comes, lets say five years, I see common business done with silver, with states holding silver/gold/platinum (precious metals etc) reserves and backing currency by it (state banks should be opened as soon as everyone figures out Bernnkes first two initials are BS!).  Worst case senerio, Mad Max, there will be no decent currency, then groceries, gas, etc, exchanges will best be done in Silver.  Gold coins at the coffee shop?  I think not.  Baum put it best (paraphrase) "Dorathy clicked her silver shoes thrice, and was back in Kansas."  Once the DoeLar is devalued (think Yuan unpegged) metals all spike, then gold is FDR'd, they all spike again.  You, holding silver (any metal?) still have your assets, and got two plush spikes.  Buy silver?  The Rothschildes did (ishares silver trust tiker SLV, Barclays)  Buy Silver ;)

If it goes at all, it certainly won't go willingly, and it will be a hell of a fight to get it.

I am Chumbawamba.

SilverIsKing:

Silver Bitches!

The rest of the convo is absolutely off the wall. 

 MsCreant

I see Robo's Wildebeasts, running out, running in. Running to a Gold ETF (sigh). They just don't get it, and will not, literally, when they need it.
Long hard physical baby.

You have to check it out!

And The 2009 ETF Winner Is...:

http://www.zerohedge.com/article/and-2009-etf-winner 

Deep Solace

An arctic tundra before a meteor blast; deep solace.  The trees will burn, the snow will melt.  Fire ravages all but the wind.  Precious is the wind.  Precious is the force who brings the fire to the furnace.
No entiende?  Pray for rain.
Comprendes?  Buy Silver.

The Life of a Popcorn Boy

The Life of a Popcorn Boy
Who would have ever known DXY 80 would be so exciting!  Bernanke buying the popcorn, serve it up Geithner!  "Get your PoPcoRNNNN!"  Said little Timmah as he waded through the crowd.  So far he had made double what he did last year at the same event.  Bernanke waved him over to his seat up high above the floor.  Timmah climbed the stairs and stepped up in front of him.  "Golly gee Mr Bernanke, this year's QE is really something!"  "Yes Timmah," Ben said as he thumbed some greenbacks.  "We have put on quite the show."  Ben's face was expressionless as he handed over the cash.  Timmah handed him a bag.  "Thanks for the popcorn."  "You're welcome Mr Bernanke, have a nice day!"  Timmah tipped his cap with those words and spun back down the steps.  His mind was racing.   He wondered if he could benefit by selling more popcorn at a lower price.  Then he thought maybe he would accept Yuan and SDRs for his popcorn too.  'Golly this is so easy.'  He thought.
Back in the skybox Bernanke was chowing down and watching the QE thumb through the market like a slow and over-sized running back does.  "He needs his blockers to step up!"  Said Brian P Sack.  "Fu-uh-uh-uh-uh-king blockers!"  Stammered Hank the Crank Paulson from a stool as he wacked the counter on the window looking onto the field.  Bernanke quietly ate fistfuls of fluffy kernals.  His eyes were on the coach, who was playing this game unuasually conservative.  "What do you think we should do Bernanke?"  Asked P Sack.  Sack walked over and pinched out of Bernanke's bag.  "We have to get the ball to the Banks any way possible.  I think we should use the Helicopter formation."
The next play was for a loss.  And the defense took over.  Obama was the defensive coordinator and locked down the opposing team 3 and out.  Thus far his defense had held up his end of the bargain, only allowing Gold to get to $1425.  It was the Bankers turn on offense, and they needed to score.  They needed a rally, but Gold had already gotten ahead of them.  The margin could only be made up if the Dow rallied.  The dollar would need to be trotted out even though it had just had a concussion by Gold's defense.
The Precious-Metals had not lost to the Bankers in a decade.  The head coach, Blankkfein, needed his offensive coordinator, Gross to do something.  He was reminded of the meeting he had with owner Bernanke before the game.  'He would run the Helicopter.'  He signaled to the QB to run Helicopter.  Dimon went under center and called the play.
With not much time left and many points to score, Dimon threw a hail mary.  They would need a score and to recover an onside kick.  With the clock winding down it looks bleak for the Bankers.
Timmah stood under the tunnel and watched from afar.  He had put his popcorn basket up in the storage room and cashed out.  The full capacity crowd had demanded a lot of popcorn.